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Spotlight: First Aid: Part 4 (Contrail)
2k5 - Tuesday, March 12, 2013, 8:23 PM -------------------------------------- Ruined Decepticon Outpost One of the many minor Decepticon outposts on Cybertron, this one met with the same fate as many others. After the war with Unicron, it was stripped of weaponry and parts to help rebuild other, more important parts of Cybertron devastated in the war. Piles of metal are scattered about on the ground around the outpost. The massive outer doors are no more, and the upper floors have collapsed. At night, the dim lighting softens the shadows; in the daytime, the shadows are harsher. The highway continues north, and to the south there are large heaps of unidentifiable materials. Contents: Lamborghini Gallardo <'Contrail'> Obvious exits: Fly leads to Sky above Scrap Yard. North leads to Southern Highway. South leads to Scrap Yard. West leads to Ruined Estates. In the command centre of one of the old Decepticon Outposts from before the Dark Ages, between the cracked walls that once kept Autobots at bay, the dead computer banks that once kept the base running, the long empty ammunition crates, the shattered monitors that once showed the area around the base, is First Aid and a small blue minibot with big wheels on his shoulders. A panel on First Aid's left wrist is open, and First Aid is poking around with the circuitry inside with a scalpel. Medical officer's log, shuttle Honesty: It's been seven hours since Fusillade shut down the ship, leaving Deft and I to only barely escape Buzzkill. I'm happy to report that my encounter with the Empties at the Ruined Estates proved much more fruitful than wandering around in the graveyard. Not only did I get shelter and manage to trade for supplies from the Empties, but I encountered Swindle. I made a deal with him to hand over the conduits for my decrystallizer assembly, and in return I got a positronic scanner. Finally I was able to diagnose and treat the damage to Deft's laser core chamber. "Hey doc," the minibot says, rummaging around in the crates, "Looks like this place has been picked clean. It's probably for the best we don't linger here too long. This base hasn't been operational in about half a million years but I know for a fact that patrols sometimes pass by this way." First Aid nods in return. I'm happy to say that Deft is up and running again. He's weak but functional. For me, I aggrevated my leg again climbing into this fort, and the positronic scanner proved conclusively that my t-cog is fried until I can get to a real medical facility. Deft's power supply is weak enough that he doesn't have much in car mode, so it looks like we're still going to have to hoof it. First Aid glances out of one of the fort's windows. There used to be transparasteel but now it's just open to the outside. Deft thinks we're only ten miles from the Southern Highway. If we make it there I'm sure our radios will be able to break the Decepticon jamming signal. I don't want to jinx it, but we just might make it. Deft is right. Of course Deft is right. Tt would be only their luck. A Decepticon patrol of three Seekers flies overhead. They fly at subsonic speeds and can be heard coming, shaking the air ahead of them with the roar of their flight. A black Eurofighter Typhoon, Tango, calls out, "Foxtrot, I think I saw something down there." "You think?" Foxtrot, a red MiG-31, "we should be checking it out, yes?" "Nah," says the third, a brown SR-71, Whiskey, "the sooner we get back, the sooner we can hit the bars." "But Whiskey!" Foxtrot protests. Tango however, is already dancing ahead. The patrol passes by. When the roar of their engines dies down, a pin could drop and be heard. But the highway isn't empty, and someone's driving with her headlights off. Deft has flown combat sorties over Cybertronian territory for several million years. He's earned the right to always be right. The minibot suddenly stops looking through ammunition crates and raises his finger to his lips. He gestures upwards, and First Aid can then hear the telltale sound of Seeker jets roaring overhead. They don't sound like they're right on top of them, but both Autobots look like they're holding their breath until the sound fades off into the distance and finally vanishes. "Whew," Deft says. "Alright, that's Primus's way of telling us to get moving." "Couldn't agree more," First Aid says. He finishes his log entry--he's been inputting them into the targeting computer of his left finger laser assembly ever since he lost his medkit to Buzzkill--and flips the panel closed, pressing down on it hard so it doesn't pop up again unexpectedly. "Did you find anything?" the Protectobot asks as the pair walk down the tunnel that leads to the outside world. Deft shakes his head. "Empties know what they're doing when they scavenge a place and they've been over this fort a dozen times over. I-*BZZT* d-d-on't think we need anything anyhow." He frowns as his vocal modulator betrays him. First Aid pretends he didn't notice, and the pair start out on the long trek northward. They're staying off the main roads, as First Aid has learned the hard way that Decepticons watch those like a hawk. This means they're on the rougher terrain, having to scramble over cracks and folds in the terrain. "When's Cybertron going to revitalize /this/ place," Deft complains as he climbs over an old fallen sensor tower. Neither Autobot is aware that the nearby highway is not as empty as it seems. Lamborghini Gallardo <'Contrail'> never really got into the habit of playing music on her radio. Or obeying traffic laws unless she really has to for a disguise. Both of those things seem distinctly... unDecepticon and unpatriotic in the sense that they seem too much like something an Autobot might do. Also, Contrail is pretty sure that she gets a quarterly bonus for each pedestrian she hits. Maybe only Battle-Chargers get that? She's not sure. Maybe running down pedestrians is just the gift that pays for itself. Down the road, off in the broken land to the side of the road, she thinks that she sees movement, and she slows down, just a bit. Whiskey's patrols are never as exhaustive as they should be, and she knows his squad was in the area. There might be something here. In fact, trailing him is usually a good way to find /something/, albeit the something is usually 'discarded moonshine energon bottles'. With the departure of the WTF Seeker squadron, the Autobots are breathing a bit easier. With the sky clear of jets, the Decepticon presence doesn't feel quite so oppressive. If it weren't for the sharp shooting pain that runs through First Aid's right leg, it would almost be pleasant. At every half kilometre, Deft pulls out his portable radio. "This is Autobot Deft to any allied units. This is Autobot Deft to any allied units. We've been shot down and are requesting evac..." but each time the pair are met only with the static from the Decepticon jamming field. It's been that way ever since the Graveyard, and neither of them have even bothered to get their hopes up anymore with each attempt. The pair are in the process of hiking around a smaller ex-Decepticon outpost when Deft suddenly stops, motioning for First Aid to be quiet. His audio sensors have always been better. Soon, First Aid hears it too. A distant car engine! But is it Autobot or Decepticon? Wordlessly, both of them ove around to hide behind a low barricade. Eons ago the wall worked well to give Decepticons a spot to poke their heads up to shoot at enemies while still remaining in cover, but these days it's almost falling down. The Protectobot peaks his head up briefly. No headlights that he can see, but then an Autobot infiltrator would surely be running with his lights off. Lamborghini Gallardo <'Contrail'> slows down further, starlight dancing over her Earthen bodywork. Earth modes are really a double-edged sword, perhaps a one and a half edged sword, because they don't work all that well on Earth, and they're terrible on Cybertron. Mulling that over, she kills her engine entirely and coasts. Some form of enhanced senses sure would be handy in times like these or even a trickier sense of misdirection. What Contrail is relying on, instead, is that Autobots are all idiots too brave for their own good. Show them danger, and they will charge right in. Deft looks up at First Aid, who's still staring in the direction of where he thinks that car is. The doctor glances back down, shaking his head to signal that he can't tell what exactly is out there and what allegiance it would hvae. Both know darn well that. jamming field or no, the odds would be fairly good that an Autobot would have heard them if they were this close. Speaking using only hand signals, First Aid and Deft draw out their sidearms and creep out from behind the barricade, staying low down and trying to use whatever cover is present from the wrecked outpost. It only occurs to First Aid as they're both sneaking /towards/ the mystery car that this is completely unlike how he handled Buzzkill. Then he had done everything to avoid the inevitable confrontation, and he and Deft were nearly killed for it. Stopping at the next barricade, it's Deft's turn to peak over the top. His optics narrow. Lamborghini, and certainly no Autobot that he can tell. He glances at the energy read-out on his automatic laser pistol: down to a quarter strength from when they used it to re-energize an hour ago. Lamborghini Gallardo <'Contrail'> does indeed think she sees movement! But only for a moment. When the Autobots again stop to hide behind a barricade, she loses them. It could just be turbofoxes or Empties. (It could be empty energon bottles.) It might not be worth her time. It probably isn't. She remarks aloud, "There are people I could be killing, right this moment." Then she transforms, one gun barrel swinging over her shoulder. Contrail starts to stalk towards the hidey-hole. "...and maybe those people are behind this barrier." In a transformation that is harder than it looks, Contrail rises up into robot mode. First Aid closes his optics as he hears Contrail's voice. Not only were his hopes of it being an Autobot dashed, but it's a Decepticon who knows exactly where they are. Buzzkill and Swindle were one thing, and he never really had to fight Fusillade, but Contrail is way out of his league. Slumping down behind the barricade, First Aid is at a loss for what to do until Deft grab his shoulder and squeezes, staring straight into his optics. "/Hey/," he hisses in a whisper, "/You got us this far. I'd still be rambling nonsense unconcious if it weren't for you so don't f---ing give up now./ Come on, mech, plan Jazz-five." First Aid nods, fighting down his fear. Which one was Jazz-five? He didn't think challenging Contrail to a breakdancing contest was going to work... wait, no, that was Jazz-four. Jazz-five comes to him in a flash, and the Protectobot immediately creeps off, leaving Deft alone with his scatter pistol. Now speaking loudly, he calls out to Contrail, "Hey, you know what? Maybe there is. And maybe those people behind the barrier think you're a /bitch/!" Deft really hopes Jazz wasn't joking about this sort of thing working. Either way, though, he's ready to transform and burn rubber should he hear a gun shot. Contrail pauses a moment, and then she laughs. The Decepticon puts her hands on her hips and calls, "Wow. Did you buy your insults from Sideswipe?" She shakes her head, still approaching closer, apparently unafraid. 'Nonchalant' might be the word. "You're their little doctor, aren't you?" Contrail pauses a moment, and then she laughs. The Decepticon puts her hands on her hips and calls, "Wow. Did you buy your insults from Sideswipe?" She shakes her head, still approaching closer, apparently unafraid. 'Nonchalant' might be the word. "Hmm, what a little /nobody/ you are. Are you will the Resistance? Did they leave you here to die? Some gratitude they show to their so-called liberators. The truth is... they /like/ being oppressed by us. It gives them something to complain about. It lets them feel like they're making a difference. If you were to take back Crystal City, they'd be the first Transformers to turn around and conspire with us to overthrow you." First Aid is on his hands and knees, crawling around the edge of the crumbled outpost wall. It curves around in a jagged arc, meaning if he gets to his destination without being followed, he and Deft might be able to get Contrail in a crossfire. Each time his right knee hits the broken ground, his entire leg sends an electrical shock through his body, causing him to wince. The leg used to be making a noise every time he moved it, but he was fortunate to be able to trade three of his finger mounted laser scalpels for a spare hydraulic motor that fit better than he would have suspected. The Protectobot can hear Deft and Contrail arguing, and scowls inwardly at the thought of what Crystal City is going through. The shining beacon of Cybertron is just the last in a long string of places that just wanted to be left alone and not get involved in the Autobot/Decepticon war. But of course Galvatron and his cronies couldn't have that, could they? And she has the audacity to say they /like/ it?! "Resistance?" Deft calls out. "I don't know of any resistance. I'm just waiting for you to take a few more steps so I can lay into you with a mortar shell. I've got a half dozen class eight warheads all energized and r-*bzzzt!!*... *fizzle... Ngh!" Deft suddenly breaks out coughing. Contrail observes, "You. Are an idiot. And also injured. Now, you Autobots are always so stupidly brave, but... /why/ are you being brave right now, hmm? What are you protecting? There's nothing of any value out here." She pans her vision around slowly, squinting. "...or is there?" What is Deft willing to do to ensure that her gaze doesn't fall on first Aid? Deft looks at his half-drained scatter pistol as his coughing dies down. Well old friend, looks like it's once more into the fray. The instant Contrail starts turning around, the blue minibot pops up, pistol already up and aimed. For a full-time pilot, he's not a bad shot. The gun sprays nearly fifty tiny laser bolts in a concentrated cone within the five seconds Deft keeps the trigger pressed. It'll blow through almost all of the energon left in the thing, but having a loaded pistol isn't much good if you've been killed. First Aid meanwhile stops the moment he realizes Contrail is looking around. There's no sounds coming from the Protectobot as he lays deathly still. It isn't until he hears the rapid-fire laser bolts that he resumes his creeping, aiming to get to where he can catch Contrail in a crossfire and heroically shoot her in the back. Contrail is, indeed, caught by the cunning Autobot trick! Deft scores some solid hits on her and forces her to do stumbling right into First Aid's line of fire, where he can shoot her in the back. Heroically. She coughs up some energon, wipes her hand down with her mouth, and muses, "Hmm. Such /fervor/. Objects never mean that much to you. Your own lives never mean that much, either. Only the lives of /others/ do. I have to wonder what it will be like for the Last Autobot, when he's the only one left. What survivor's guilt will he feel, knowing that every other Autobot in the history of the faction died for him, in their own ways, and he has no one left to die for? Such a peculiar deathwish that drives you all." "Me, I'd just rather make the lot of you die." Buzzkill taught First Aid the value of fighting dirty if the alternative is the destruction of you and your friends. It may be something of a last resort, but this whole night has been nothing but one last resort after another. The Protectobot is currently kneeling behind a broken down section of the outer fortress wall with his pistol aimed at Contrail's backside. The doctor hears Contrail contemplating about the destruction of the remaining Autobots, and all First Aid can think about is repeatedly pulling the trigger, sending more and more photon beams hurtling towards Contrail. "Stop stop stop stop stop," First Aid repeats frantically under his breath, desperate to clear this last hurdle. They were so close! Deft meanwhile ducks back down behind the barricade. This isn't out of fear or even to avoid whatever Contrail is planning. It's just that his gun is almost out of energon and as a pilot he doesn't have much in the way of an alternate weapon. He tries to call Contrail a bitch again but his voice modulator betrays him again, refusing to make any noise other than a high pitched squeal reminiscent of microphone feedback. Contrail falls. And she goes down laughing. Contrail isn't dead. First Aid just doesn't have the firepower. She'll be after them in a few seconds at the longest, almost certainly hunting them down like a conical terminator, once her optical sensors reboot. "Photon pistol to the back, eh? And who is /this/? Streetwise? /Nightbeat/? Maybe... Groove?" Nightbeat it totally a wannabe Protectobot. Everyone knows it. What Needlenose is doing is more confusing, though. At this point First Aid doesn't even get his hopes up when Contrail goes down. Instead both he and Deft are already on the move. The pair abandon their hiding spots, sprinting/limping away from the fort while Contrail is on the ground. Deft, with his superior audio sensors, thinks he can hear laughing... but he better be wrong about that. Jumping down from the raised part of the fort where the outer wall is to the ground, First Aid lands awkwardly thanks to his bad leg but keeps on running. "*BZZZZZZZZZT*" Deft says to First Aid, but naturally it didn't come out as he intended. He was /trying/ to tell First Aid: 'hold onto me, I'm going to do something risky'. Throwing caution to the wind and transforms into his big 4x4 wheeled off road Cybertronian car mode. His nitro booster ignites, spewing flames out the back engine. Deft surges forward with First Aid jumping on at the last second. Deft's acceleration is fantastic and within seconds he's putting serious distance between them and Contrail... until his injuries caught up to him, his energon pump fizzles, and Deft suddenly coasts to a halt, unconscious. Laserbeak was last connected on Tue Mar 12 17:21:02 2013; that was 2h 45m 24s ago. Contrail takes wing. She isn't flying well. That's pretty obvious. It looks like Deft really might outpace her, if he loses her in a TUNNEL (the weakness of all Decepticons). Then he passes out. The jet swoops down and transforms again. peering at the two Autobots. "Ah. First Aid. You were going to be next guess. After 'Repugnus in Groove drag'. So I have to ask. How do you feel, knowing that, whenever you repair an Autobot and he goes on to kill someone, you are directly responsible for that death?" Even as Deft is slowing down, First Aid gets to work. There's subtle laser scalpel sparks on the top of the car until it comes to a halt, at which point he climbs off. Deft is looking pretty bad. There's a wounds all over his body from the crash and the adventures in the seven hours after. At least one of the holes in his chassis goes deep. As expected, Contrail soars downwards and transforms back into robot mode. First Aid doesn't draw his weapon again, perhaps because he knows it isn't going to be useful to shoot Contrail again. Raising his hands to show he's weaponless, the Protectobot takes several steps back away from Contrail, apparently fine with leaving Deft where he is. Looking up at Contrail, First Aid replies evenly, "If he goes on to kill a Decepticon that was threatening innocents, then I have no regrets, Contrail, and I have no illusions about the war. I... heh, if anything I... hah, ha, ha ha..!" First Aid covers his face plate, trying to stop snickering. Contrail just sort of stands around like a jackass, taunting First Aid and generally not being super effective or anything. The budget for battle scenes might have been wasted on Deft's cone of fire. She smiles widely, "And if he has a mental break and snaps and starts killing 'innocents', himself? Because /you/ saved his life? What then? Because I've seen things, little doctor. Terrible, wonderful things." Contrail has! First Aid takes another step backwards, leaving Deft. He tries to look back at Contrail so he can answer her question but is having a hard time not laughing. "I'm, hah, I'm sorry, it's just that you're... heh!" The Protectobot takes another step back, and the gears in his leg finally give way and start grinding again, making that scritching noise that gave him away to Buzzkill six hours ago. Contrail starts moving a bit closer to First Aid, slowly. "Really. You think that the murder of innocents is hilarious. I may not have given you enough credit, little doctor! Do you also delight when you repair a wounded Autobot, fresh-faced and naive, and he comes back haunted and hollow? Do you get off on that? When you could just sideline him. Leave him alive but take him out of the fight. You could spare him the pain of war. But you don't. Do you really like that?" "No, it isn't that," First Aid says, managing to stifle his laughter. He keeps backing up. "It's just that Deft's laser core casing was damaged in the crash. I had to extract it after escaping Buzzkill to keep it from going off line, and I had to do it again in the Ruined Estates when I finally repaired it. I've, heh, gotten really good at it. That, and a photon pistol set to maximum overload while right next to a fuel tank will ignite it." The Protectobot turns and sprints. KRAK-BOOM First Aid, despite being further away from Deft than Contrail when his body detonates, is blown clear off his feet by the shockwave. The explosion spreads outwards, and First Aid lands hard on his front. His entire backside is blackened from the energon-fueled flames. "So you... ran off with his brain?" Contrail says aloud, rubbing her chin. "That's... kind of sick. I could almost respect you! But why would you..." Oh, to explode Deft's body in her face. If Contrail wasn't busy being exploded, which hurts like hell, she would think that was a great trick! In any case, when someone comes along to salvage her smoking, half-melted body and wakes her up, Contrail will animatedly explain that First Aid is a wily old buzzard. Next time, she will try harder to kill him! Won't that be fun. First Aid pushes himself up from the ground, brushing the metal flakes, dirt, and now ash off his body. Turning over, he can't even make out Deft's wreckage through the intense flames. More importantly, he can't make out Contrail's. Hot Spot would be proud, First Aid thinks. Blades and Streetwise too. Groove? Maybe not so much. This story has no reason to ever hit his audio circuits, First Aid thinks. After taking several steps as a test, First Aid kneels despite the protests of his injured leg. Reaching into his knee trunk, he pulls out a small container. "I think I'll call that a victory for you, Deft," he tells it, though there's no way the minibot could possibly hear him. Using the positronic scanner he acquired from Swindle, First Aid can see that the casing is still intact and the laser core functional. As he stands up straight and resumes walking, First Aid comments, "By the way, I think we need a different nickname for Contrail. Remember Ace called Fusillade a psycho-bitch and you called Buzzkill a twisted bitch? We can't just call /every/ Decepticon femme some variation of that." The Protectobot strolls north just as Alpha Centauri B is starting to rise over Scrapyard, causing a long shadow to be cast in front of him. "I don't know, maybe 'silly billy'? No reason they all have to be rude..." After an hour's hike, one of First Aid's transmissions manages to cut through the static and get picked up by a scouting party up at Magnaron. On the shuttle ride home, First Aid keeps to himself, deciding that nothing done over the past eight hours is worth bragging about.